


Restoration

by Bloke_with_a_beard



Series: What happened to Nancy Blackett? [2]
Category: Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloke_with_a_beard/pseuds/Bloke_with_a_beard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After the traumatic events of Nancy's funeral the Swallows, Amazons and Ds meet up once more, and overcome past hurdles as they do so.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Restoration

**Author's Note:**

> After the traumatic events of Nancy's funeral the Swallows, Amazons and Ds meet up once more, and overcome past hurdles as they do so.

The Restoration

"Oh I'm so glad you can come!" Molly said, "I've been wanting to get everyone together again for so long. It was lovely seeing you all that last time . . . but it was such a sad day too."

"My dear Molly!" Mary Walker replied, wishing she knew how to convey more than a voice down a telephone wire ever could. "It was a very sad day, but we were all so proud of the way you and Peggy handled everything: I'm sure Nancy would have been proud of you too."

"I often wonder what she would have made of us all," Molly said, "The way we managed to sound as if we were getting on so well when we'd almost become strangers. I was working it out – that had been eleven years since I'd last seen Susan, and even after that I've only seen her the once since."

Molly sighed deeply. "Why did it take something like a funeral to bring us all back together? What went wrong with everyone? Our children were always such good friends when they were younger . . . . . "

"I don't think anyone really knows," Mary said. "Or if they do, they take great care never to say anything about it. They were always so close, and then it was like they hardly knew each other. Yet it can't have been all that bad, not with John and Peggy getting married, and Mavis and Dick."

"I wonder who Nancy would have married?" Molly pondered. "I wonder if anyone would have been able to tame her?" She sighed again. "I do still miss her so much you know – the terror that she was. I miss her laugh, her voice, her energy . . . I think I miss her more than I miss Bob sometimes. Sounds daft to say it, but I do."

There was a silence between them, broken only by the hums and crackles of the long-distance line, which eventually Mary broke. "So you'll be OK if we come up on the the 16th then?" she eventually asked. "Are you sure you'll have enough rooms? And that you can fit Ted and me into Jim's study without disturbing him too much?"

"Jim doesn't use his study so much these days," Molly said. "He can manage without it for a few days I'm quite sure. Of course it'll be a bit of a squash with everyone here, but it'll be so lovely to see you all. We'll manage somehow: I know we will."

"Do you wish to pay for another three minutes?" the operator's voice cut across their conversation.

"No, that's fine," Mary said. "I'll go now Molly. See you on the 16th!"

~~~~~~~~

Friday the 16th of July was a dull, grey day, with heavy clouds hanging low across the sky and the constant threat of rain, but the typically British, typically Lakeland weather was not enough to dampen the spirits of the assorted travellers who headed for Beckfoot. That lowering heaviness seemed to have affected Molly however, as she found herself watching the road and listening for passing cars from early in the morning, despite her daughter's best efforts to stop her.

"Mother!" Peggy sighed. "None of them will be here yet – not even Uncle Jim! Most of them will be on the 2.35 train, and then they've got to drive round. Stop getting in such a scrow over it! Come and talk to Annie will you? She's flapping in the kitchen already and convinced herself she'll never cope like old Cookie used to."

"Oh I know you're right love," Molly said, "But I'm so worried something will go wrong with everyone coming today."

"Mother!" Peggy said. "We're all adults now. You don't have to worry about us like you used to. And we'll make sure everyone's alright about squeezing in. We've been through it before – loads of times. John and I will have Ruth with us in our old room. Dick and Mavis will have Eddie in with them in your room. Susan and Briget will share the old box room in the attic, Dot and Charles will have the guest room, Roger and Sarah are sleeping in the dining room, John's parents are in the study, Mike and Uncle Jim are in the drawing room, and you've got the living room sofa. We all know it'll be a squash, but everyone will have a bed somewhere and it is only for a couple of nights."

"Yes my love. I know," Molly said, "But I'm still worried . . . "

"But nothing Mother!" Peggy said. "Come and see Annie will you? She's nearly as bad as you are about it all, so make yourself useful and help her sort the food out: occupy your minds so neither of you are getting so worked up."

It was quarter to twelve when Susan drove her parent's smart Hillman into the yard and backed it neatly into the space beside the barn. While her mother was squeezing out of the back seat Susan set up the wheelchair and brought it round to the passenger door for her father.

"So this is Beckfoot then is it?" he said as he eased his thin body into the chair. "I've heard so much about it it, but somehow I never imagined it quite like this."

"What did you imagine it like then Ted?" Mary asked, but she never got an answer as a cheerful voice cut across the quiet conversation.

"Hello Dad!" John called as he strode across the yard to meet them. "Hello Mum! Hello Sue!"

"Hello son!" Ted replied, but John barely heard him as his mother was busy hugging him while Susan stood by.

John shook his father's hand and gave Susan a quick kiss on the cheek, then they all turned to look at the sturdy four year old who held tightly to her mother's hand in the doorway.

"Hello Ruth!" Mary called. "Have you got a hug for your Granny today then?"

"No hugs!" Ruth said, scowling at the new arrivals.

"What? Not even when I've got sweets for you?" Mary asked, taking a small paper bag from the pocket of her skirt.

Ruth wavered, then ran across the yard to give the briefest and most perfunctory of hugs before holding her hand out for the sweets.

"Say thank you Ruth!" Peggy told her, but she had gone quiet again.

"Don't worry," Mary said. "Give her a chance to get used to us again first. It's months since she last saw us, and that was at Shotley. She'll not be used to seeing us here."

Susan wheeled her father's chair across to the house and positioned it against the step, and John set down the suitcases to help her pull up it into the house. "We've put you in here," Peggy said, opening the study door. "Uncle Jim had a man help him clear a lot of stuff over to the houseboat, though I hope you won't mind the bits he's left."

A leather-covered shield hung on the wall between two huge book-cases, with the tall antlered head of an antelope above it. A large-scale map of the area around the lake adorned the wall over the fireplace, while a spectacular rock-crystal glinted at them from beneath a glass dome.

"It'll do just fine!" Mary assured her, glancing at the obviously borrowed wardrobe and the two narrow beds. "But . . . isn't that a bit of ancient history?" she asked, looking at the well-worn cupboard that had been positioned between them.

"Yes," Peggy chuckled. "That's the one. The boot cupboard – the armadillo's home: Timothy's hutch or whatever you want to call it. That's not going anywhere. That belongs here in it's own right!"

Susan took her small suitcase and went with Peggy up to the attic box-room, while John took Ruth and her sweets out into the garden. They all knew that the senior Walkers would need a little time to settle, and that after the journey the Commander's leg would be aching badly. Ever since that day in early 1945 when a shard of Japanese shrapnel had carried away half his thigh-muscle the Commander had found standing and walking very difficult, and even journeying was filled with pain – but he was determined that the weekend together would still happen. Everyone could see he was in great discomfort, but he was not going to spoil anything if he could help it.

Mary came and found the others in the living room a while later. "Ted’s just having a snooze," she said. "Thank you for the way you all quietly vanished like that – he needed a bit of peace and quiet. He'll be fine later, but even with Susan's excellent driving he was in quite a lot of pain."

"How bad is it these days?" Molly asked. "None of you seem to mention it much so I assumed he was doing reasonably well now."

"He's doing as well as he ever will," Mary said. "He never complains unless it's really bad, but I think sometimes he really hates the way he can't do things any more."

"Yes, that's the sort of man he is, isn't he?" Molly said.

"I'm sorry Molly," Mary said. "Ted might not be able to do all he could once, but I've still got him. It must be so much worse for you, with neither Bob nor Nancy coming back at all."

"Don't start me on that one Mary!" Molly said. "You'll have me in tears if you say things like that. I cope. I have to cope, so that's all there is to it. And we're all here this weekend to enjoy being together, so let's make sure we do. I'm going to see how Annie's getting on: I'll see you later."

Molly bustled out of the room, and Mary looked across at Peggy. "She's doing amazingly well," she said.

"She will do," Peggy replied. "Always does. Then Uncle Jim will find her weeping in the garden after everyone's gone. It's how she copes. You won't change it."

"Oh," Mary said. "I see."

"So then!" Peggy said brightly, breaking the slightly awkward silence her statement had left. "Do you reckon you really will get your father out in _Amazon_?"

"We'll have to wait till Roger gets here," John said. "It'll take both of us to help him into the boat, but yes. We'll do it. I know he'll love it, and once he's in the boat his bad leg will hardly make any difference."

"Such a shame the Jacksons sold the _Swallow_ ," Peggy said. " _Amazon_ and _Scarab_ are still here, but with all of you around a third boat would have really helped."

"Yes – it is a bit of a shame," John said, "But it was so long since we'd last come up here they must have thought we'd never use her again, and no one's going to hang onto anything forever if it's not being used.

"What's up Sue?" he asked, turning sharply to look at as his sister as she made a funny, choking noise.

"I . . . . Look . . . .I'm . . . . " Susan stumbled.

"Yes?" John asked quietly, half guessing what would be coming and hoping it wouldn't make anything worse.

"I . . . . I need to say I'm sorry before I . . . before things like that spoil anything else," Susan said. "I know it was mainly my fault, and I know now I was wrong: completely wrong."

"Whatever do you mean Susan?" Mary asked.

"I . . . I got something badly wrong . . . ages ago . . . when we were all on the _Sea Bear_ that time," Susan said. "I jumped to a conclusion and I was wrong, and I think I spoiled everything for us. I'm sorry Peggy. You know what I said, and I realise now I had no right to say it."

"But Sue!" Peggy said, holding out a hand towards her sister in law. "That was years ago! That's all forgotten! It's water under the bridge now, so don't you go worrying yourself about it any more. Nancy and I had a good laugh over that one because we knew it was just a mistake: an easy one to make, considering how we went on sometimes. No! That's all forgotten. Gone – finished . . . Why – I'd hardly have married John if there had ever been any truth in it, would I?"

"I know: I realise that," Susan said. "I realise it – now. But I still need to say I'm sorry for what I did then and what I've done since. I was so sure I was right about you that I always said I didn't want meet up, didn't want to come back up here: it was me that stopped us all getting to your wedding, or to Mavis's. Me that put a stop to our holidays together. It was me and my stupid ideas. It was because I was so silly and self-righteous that the Jacksons sold the _Swallow_ and we can't borrow her any more."

"Susan!" John quietly said. "Steady on old thing! You can't go blaming yourself for all of that! They were wartime weddings. Not everyone could get leave – I know I couldn't for Mavis's: I was half way across the Atlantic on a convoy! And it was because of the war that the Jacksons sold the _Swallow_ – they weren't using her themselves, and they needed the space in the boathouse for other things . . . . . And even before the war it was because we were getting older that we didn't want come back so much. We were growing up: I never wanted to admit it but we weren't who we used to be any more. We didn't want it to, but everything we did was changing: I couldn't pretend we were still children. It just didn't work.

"No Susan, it wasn't you. It was just life and everything that got in the way," he went on. "We had to make a break. We had to let the things we did change because we had changed. I didn't want to come back here then because I wasn't twelve any more."

"He's right Sue," Mary said, gently touching her oldest daughter on the arm. "Don't go blaming yourself for what no one could help."

"That's very good of you to say that," Susan said, looking up and giving them a wan smile, "But it still doesn't change the fact that I had no right to say what I did. Peggy – no please – let me say it. Let me say it now, while it's just us here. I don't know how much Mavis or Roger realised, but I know that Briget never knew about it and the D's weren't involved at all. I can't say it to Nancy, but I need to say it to you – I need to, to get it off my chest. Please?"

Susan took a deep breath, the loudest sound in the suddenly silent room.

"Peggy," she said, "Peggy, will you forgive me for insinuating that you and Nancy were lovers? Will you forgive me for making sure we never met up – not until it was too late. I cannot ask Nancy – not now, not any more – but if there was any way that I could I'd move heaven and earth to do so."

"Susan!" Peggy said, reaching out and taking her hand. "Susan! We both forgave you long years ago. Do you think I'd have ever married John if I felt anyone still believed that? Oh Susan! I forgive you, and I know Nancy forgave you too. Look! That was years ago. We've all changed since then. We've been through a war together for goodness sake. It's gone. It's dealt with. Please – accept it as understood. You are forgiven."

"Thank you Peggy! Oh thank you!" Susan said. "You don't know what that means to me, to hear you say that. Thank you so, so much . . . . . "

Susan sagged in her chair and crumpled into tears: John and Mary both went to comfort her, but Peggy got there first. "Gaskets and bowlines!" she said as the hugged Susan. "You can be such a galoot sometimes! Have you been carrying that pain for all these years? Oh Susan! I wish I'd known – I wish we'd both of us known. Nancy would have come and kicked you for it years ago if we'd even thought that was still between us."

"Thanks Peggy," Susan sniffed. "You're a brick. I'm so glad my silliness never stopped you and John from getting married."

The living room door swung open and little Ruth came trotting in. "Granny Blackett says d'you want that cup-a-tea?" she announced: the quietness had gone, and their tense discussions were over.

"I'll come and give her a hand," Mary said. "Can you show me the way Ruth?"

　

　

Roger and Sarah were the next to arrive, roaring into the yard on Roger's big motor bike. There was no need to announce their arrival as the sharp crack of the exhaust sounded throughout the whole house. John hurried out to meet them with Peggy and Susan close behind, to find Roger heaving the bike onto its stand while his wife ran her fingers through her wind-tangled hair.

"Hello Roger! Hello Sarah!" Peggy said. "Welcome to Beckfoot."

"Hello everyone," Roger said, peeling off his leather helmet and slapping it down on the saddle. "Great to be back here again. You met Sarah at the wedding, didn't you?"

"We did," Susan said looking around to check who was there, "But I don't think Peggy or her Mum made it. Best come and be introduced."

"Hello Sarah!" Molly Blackett greeted her. "Lovely to meet you at last! And how's your harum-scarum of a husband treating you? I don't know! Dragging you half way round the country on the back of a horrible motorbike. That's no way to treat a lady!"

Sarah grinned happily. "Oh I just love going on the bike!" she said. "I'd have brought mine too if the journey hadn't been so long: just my little Enfield tends to overheat if I do much more than about fifty miles on it."

"Oh! I see!" Molly said. "Mmmmm – maybe that's . . . yes, well, none of my business!"

Molly gave Sarah an odd smile. "I wonder how you would have got on with Nancy," she murmured. "Oh well – we'll never know.

"So then!" she said, brightening up again. "So glad you could come my dear and I hope you have a really lovely time while we're all here. Has Peggy shown you your room yet? I'm sorry it's only the dining room but with so many people this weekend we're having to fit everyone in where we can."

"We'll be just fine there Mrs Blackett," Sarah assured her. "We'd have brought the tent only there's no room for me if that goes on the bike. Somewhere indoors will be much more comfortable."

"Sarah seems to be a very nice young lady!" Molly said to Mary as they stood at the window a while later, watching her showing Ruth how to make daisy-chains. "Your children certainly know how to find them, don't they?"

"Oh I don't think Peggy did so badly for herself either," Mary replied with a laugh: a laugh they both shared.

At just gone three Captain Flint drove Rattletrap IV into the yard, with Mavis and a rather excited Eddie in the front seat beside him. Dick emerged from the squash in the back of the car, closely followed by Dot and Charles. "Grab your bags out!" the rather harassed driver said. "Just dump them for now. I've got twenty minutes to get back to the station but that should be all of us then."

Bags and packages were hurriedly bundled out of the boot and untied from the rack, and the Captain Flint was off again in a cloud of dust and oily smoke.

"When did you last have that engine serviced?" Roger asked as the sound of a loud miss-fire echoed back from the woods opposite.

"You'll have to ask Jim about that," Molly Blackett replied. "He deals with all that kind of thing."

"Why's he off in such a hurry?" Mary asked.

"Briget missed her train," Mavis said. "She was with us earlier but Mike's connection was late, so she stayed behind at Strickland to wait for the next one. I don't think there's anything to worry about, just he doesn't want to miss out on the fun!"

　

　

"Well Annie," Molly said as they finished their meal. "I think I can safely say you were worrying about nothing. You've done us proud tonight – thank you."

"You're welcome Mrs B," Annie said. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Just look at all these empty plates!" Peggy chuckled. "I think we liked it alright."

Briget and Mavis helped clear the last dishes away, then returned to find John and Roger carefully positioning the big table against the wall. "Room for us to think about making a bed up now love," Roger said.

"Not straight after all that wonderful food!" Sarah replied. "I'm used to eating on rations and points: not black market size portions."

"Oh there's nothing black market in what we serve!" Molly hastened to say. "Just we've got a few good farming friends around here, and if neighbours can't help each other then who can?"

It was a squash with all fifteen adults in the parlour, even with the two youngsters tucked up in bed upstairs, so the group spilled out onto the terrace outside. Coffee and wine subtly scented the evening air, while Ted's pipe added a further aroma to the mix. "So then!" Molly asked. "What plans do you have for tomorrow?"

"Sailing!" John said with a laugh. "What else do we do when everyone's here like this?"

"You'll never get all of us in _Amazon_ and _Scarab_ though," Mary said. "No matter how hard you try. You'll sink them with seventeen aboard."

"Is the old launch still working?" Briget asked. "You'd get us all in if we used that too, wouldn't you?"

"No one's used the launch in years," Uncle Jim said. "I don't know if the engine will go any more: I think it might be rusted up by now."

"Oh!" Roger said, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. "Well – we'll have to find out then, won't we. Coming love? It's a nineteen eleven Thornycroft steamer: they had the engine out of one in the workshops while I was down there: I helped them put it all back together but they never did have her working. It's an absolutely lovely piece of workmanship: elegant and simple. Where do you keep your tools these days Captain Flint?"

"You're not going out there to look this time of night are you?" Jim asked. "It'll be dark in the boathouse by now."

"What? No lights in there?" Roger asked.

"We don't have such luxuries up here young man!" Jim laughed. "We've only had the electric in the house for a year: it's not worth the expense of running the wires all the way across the lawn."

"Candles then?" Roger asked. "Hurricane lamp? Surely you've got something we can see by?"

Jim sighed and stood up. "Come on then!" he said. "Let's see what we can find you."

"Hadn't we better get changed first?" Sarah asked. "I don't fancy digging in the bowels of a steam-engine dressed like this."

By the time Uncle Jim came back with two lanterns and a box of candles Sarah and Roger were dressed in their biking clothes once more, and the three of them walked across the lawn in the dusk to see what delights the old launch might reveal.

"I know you two girls lived in shorts in the holidays," Molly said as the three of them vanished through the boat-house door, "But I never expected to see a grown woman in trousers like that."

"It's what lots of girls wear these days Mother," Peggy said.

"And it must be far more practical on a motorbike," Dick added.

"Oh I know," Molly sighed. "I think I must be getting old. I'll be sounding like Aunt Maria next!"

"No Mother – you'll never do that," Peggy protested. "We'll not let you."

　

A very pleased but rather grubby Roger came back as they ate a light, late supper, a rather cleaner Sarah and Jim following him.

"Well?" Molly asked as Roger went through to the scullery to clean himself up. "Did your exploits meet with success?"

"We'll not know properly till the morning when we fire her up," Jim said, "But the Chief Engineer expressed himself very satisfied with his findings, so hopefully everything will work."

"Be quite a fleet of us then!"John said. " _Amazon, Scarab_ and the launch. The boathouse won't have been so empty in years."

"Well if you think I'm using the rowing boat to go all that way just so you can completely empty the boat-house you can think again!" Jim laughed. "My days for rowing that kind of distance are long gone!"

 

Roger and Jim lit the boiler in the launch before breakfast, and by the time the sailing crews had stepped masts and rigged the dingies he had a good head of steam showing on the dials. Before long the new flotilla was ready to set out on their voyage of re-discovery.

It felt a little odd for John to now be the Captain of the _Amazon_ , and despite the skull and crossbones at the masthead he flatly refused to be a pirate of any description, but young Ruth never realised what the situation meant to her parents and was simply delighted to be on the water. Richard and Mavis had privately debated, and as the more experienced sailor it was Mavis who sat at the helm of _Scarab_ , while Richard watched her and tried to remember his old skills, and Susan held on to Eddie amidships. Dot travelled on the launch with Charles and the others, awaiting her turn to sail on the return leg. The launch was rather fuller than of old with eleven people on board, though after a very brief lesson Jim left Roger and Sarah at the controls and added his bulk to the squash with the other more senior passengers in the cabin.

"Well this all seems to be going very well then!" Molly said as he found a spare seat beside her. "The number of times I thought about selling this old white elephant . . . I never expected to be sitting here like this again!"

"It's always such a civilised way to get around," Mary said. "Let the younger generations do the work while we sit here in comfort. All we need is the steward to come along with the G and T and we could be back in Malta again."

"Not quite warm enough for Malta!" Ted chuckled, "But I know what you mean love."

Roger held a steady course across the lake for Rio Bay, letting the engine putter along at a low speed while the two sailing dingies tacked back and forth into the steady breeze. He watched them cutting through the water, throwing up occasional splashes to sparkle in the sunshine, and though back to the days when he'd sailed before the mast in the _Swallow_.

"Do you miss being under sail love?" Sarah asked him as he turned aside to let Mavis sail across their path. "Do you miss being with the others?"

"No!" Roger smiled. "I'd far rather be here with you, and someone needs to keep an eye on the engine: she can't have been steamed in years so who knows what might yet go wrong."

But nothing did go wrong, and the engine kept up its steady chuffling beat all the way down the Lake, through Rio Bay, past Darien, past the houseboat, and on to the Island. That Wildcat would be their first port of call had somehow been assumed by everyone, and there never had been any real debate on the matter. Where else was there to go first? Other places might be visited later, but there was nowhere on the Lake so important as Wildcat to see as an initial landfall.

"Landing place or harbour?" Mavis asked as the Island came closer. "Which one do you want to go to?"

"I don't mind," Dick replied. "They'd not get the launch into the harbour would they?"

"No – probably not," Mavis said.

John and the _Amazon_ came closer and it was clear a similar discussion was being had on that boat too.

"Where are you thinking of landing?" he called across to them. "Do you want to try the harbour?"

"Why not?" Mavis asked, but then had second thoughts. "Roger will have to go to the landing place though won't he? Hadn't we better go there too so we can help Father off the boat?"

"That's a good thought!" Susan said. "Yes – it probably would be best if we all went there."

But they needn't have been so concerned. Roger's confidence in the untried engine was increasing all the time, and as the two smaller boats headed off toward Cormorant Island on their final tack he notched his speed up and was at the landing place long before them. The two dingies turned south of the harbour and sailed up with a following wind to find the launch safely moored with Briget and Mike stood by to assist the passengers to disembark. As John hurried to help Sarah passed Ted's walking sticks down to Mary and Roger jumped down to lend his support, and with an expression of both determination and pride Ted stood on the pebbly beach and looked around.

"So this was your Island Kingdom then was it?" he asked. "Explorer's base, pirate's lair and where you came to get away from us oldies? What a lovely spot! I can quite see why you wanted to spend all your time here."

With several watchful eyes upon him but no one wanting to offer assistance until it was needed, Ted made his stiff and awkward way up to the old camping place, then settled into the folding chair that had been put ready for him.

"Someone's kicked your old fireplace about a bit Susan!" Roger commented, looking at the ring of big stones that had always been at the centre of the clearing.

"Wasn't my fireplace," Susan said. "Don't you remember? It was already here when we came the very first time. That's how we knew the Island had already been discovered. Was it you and Nancy built it Peggy?"

"It was there before our time," Peggy said. "We just took it over: we never built it. Do you know when it was first made, Uncle Jim?"

"No – I don't know that I do," he replied. "It's always been there since before I can remember. Even when Bob and I used to row down here when we were young it was always there. People used to land and brew up when they were fishing – that's how we realised the Island wasn't private. It must be an ancient and historical monument by now!"

"Well ancient and historical or not," Susan said, "If we want a cup of tea now we're here we'll need to repair it first. Are you old forecastle hands going to get me some fire-wood?"

"Aye aye Mister Mate!" Roger laughed. "Come on Sarah. I'll show you the rest of the Island too while we're at it."

The fireplace was cleared and repaired, the fire made and the kettle boiled. Somehow to be sitting around in the old camping place, eating Annie's sandwiches and drinking Susan's camp-fire tea, made it feel for many of them that they'd never been away.

"You really did come camping here?" Mike asked. "Just you? No grown-ups?"

"Just them mostly," Briget said. "I was too young till the very end."

"But was it safe?" Mike asked.

"Safe?" Mary chuckled. "No! Of course it wasn't! No more safe than walking down the street or fighting in a war. But what was the choice? Wrap them all in cotton wool and not let them do anything? Or take the risk and hope they were sensible enough to get away with it?"

"I'm glad you let us take the risks Mother," John said very softly. "I don't think we'd have been the people we are now if you hadn't."

"Exactly!" Ted said. "Better drowned than . . . . "

"Duffers! If not duffers, won't drown!" they all finished off for him.

"And you've not been duffers, have you?" he said. "So we've been proved right in taking the risks."

"Can I come and camp here when I'm bigger then?" Ruth asked. "Are you going to let me do things like you used to?"

"There were more of us used to come then," John said. "We never came till I was twelve . . . . "

"Mummy used to come here with Aunty Nancy!" Ruth said. "She's told me. Before you ever found the Lake. She and Aunty Nancy used to camp here and that was only two of them."

"We only stayed here once on our own," Peggy said. "Uncle Jim used to come with us before that. When you're a bit bigger we'll bring you here though: we'll get you a little tent of your own to put next to ours so you can sleep here properly, and we can have all kinds of adventures then just like we used to."

Ruth seemed content with the promise, and went off with Eddie to watch the passing boats from the Lookout Point.

"The old launch behaved herself then," Molly said, breaking the strange silence that the children's departure had left.

"Good old-fashioned solid engineering," Jim replied. "Not like these modern engines. She'll never go fast, she'll never be as economical, but she'll never wear out – will she young man?"

Roger looked up. "She'll do," he said. "It would cost too much to make boats like that now, but she'll do. Just give her a run out occasionally and make sure the varnish gets checked over occasionally and she'll still be going strong in another fifty years."

"But you'd rather have a motor bike to play with – I know!" Jim smiled, and when Roger looked pained by his statement he simply repeated it. "She's a museum piece nearly!" he added. "No one uses boats like that nowadays, not like they used to. No one builds them. They cost too much."

"But they are lovely," Sarah sighed.

"Traitor!" Roger chuckled. "Traitor! I've a good mind to make you sail home in _Amazon_ for saying things like that! That'll teach you to like old-fashioned means of transport!"

"There'll be lots of room in _Scarab_ if you want to come back with us," Dorothea offered. "Richard and Mavis said they'd go with Eddie on the launch, so you're welcome to come back with Charles and me – just so long as you can cope with inexperienced sailors!"

"I think I could cope with that," Sarah said, sticking her tongue out at Roger. "I never have sailed in a little dingy so it'd be great to see what it's like. Roger goes on about it dreadfully sometimes, about all the things they did in the _Swallow_ when he was little: but I still know he was happiest tinkering with the engine on _Goblin_ or _Sea Bear_."

When they had eaten their picnic, taken the youngsters to see how a boat fitted in the harbour, sailed across to Dixon's Farm and paid a visit to a very old and virtually deaf Mrs Dixon as she sat in the old kitchen, grumbling about how her son and his wife didn't run the farm the right way any more, and generally spent a very pleasant afternoon wandering deep down memory lane, they packed everybody into the boats and set off for Beckfoot.

John and Peggy took Ted with them as well as Ruth: Dorothea and Charles took Sarah as promised, and everyone else went in the launch. With a following wind Dorothea should have sailed away in the _Scarab_ and left the more heavily laden _Amazon_ behind, but she knew she was lacking in experience as well as being very rusty in her skills, and before long she was the one left trailing behind the others.

"Don't worry love!" Charles chuckled when he saw the frustration on his wife's face. "Let them get back first – they'll have to make a start on food and youngster's baths, while we can come ambling home when all the work is done."

The wind was slowly fading as the day drew on, and Dot's lack of experience showed again as she kept fiddling with the sail and loosing speed all the time. Long before they reached Rio they were out of earshot of the rest, but as they were in no kind of distress and clearly would make it back eventually the others kept on and left them behind.

"So what do you make of the assorted clans then?" Dorothea asked Sarah. "It's the first time you've met all of us isn't it?"

"Yes," Sarah said. "Obviously I've met the Walkers before, and your brother came to our wedding but John and Peggy were away so I’d not met her or either of you, nor Mrs Blackett and her brother. But everyone seems really nice: I do hope we can get together like this more often. I lost my Aunt and Uncle and all their family in the Blitz and my Mum's an only child, so I've hardly ever been to any big family gatherings like this. It looks like great fun though!"

"Oh it is," Dorothea said. "My parents are off all over the world most of the time, either digging things up or lecturing about them, but when they come home we often get all the family round for a couple of days and it's lovely seeing everyone together. But I'm sorry to hear about your Aunt and Uncle. Did you know them well?"

"Not really," Sarah said. "We'd lived in Southampton since I was tiny so we'd sort of lost touch a bit. It cost too much to visit more than once every few years. And my cousins were all older than me, so we never had much to do with each other even when we did meet. No – I don't want to sound cold and uncaring, and of course it was sad to hear what had happened, but it didn't really have that much of an effect on us, not even on Dad with him losing his big sister

"It felt like everyone round Itchen had lost someone, so I suppose I just accepted it."

"We were most of us amazingly lucky," Dorothea said. "The Blackets were fine up here and away from it all, but the Walkers were all on Naval bases and places like that – but Nancy was the only one who got killed. Commander Walker was injured of course, but otherwise we all came though unscathed."

"How was it Nancy got killed?" Sarah asked. "Like you said, they were right out of it up here, weren't they?"

"Oh Mrs B and Captain Flint were," Dorothea said, "And Peggy was around quite a bit too, but there was no way Nancy could keep out of things. No, she joined up just as soon as she could: she was in the WRNS of course – she'd never have thought of volunteering anywhere else. She ended up based on the south coast – Hamble I think – as a Chief Wren and an armaments expert. I don't know the whole story, in fact I’m not sure anyone does, but somehow she ended up on a motor gun boat when it was called out, and they got sunk somewhere over on the French coast a month or two before D-Day."

"A Wren on an MGB?" Sarah asked. "They didn't allow women on active service I thought?"

"She was never supposed to have been there," Dot said. "It was all some kind of emergency and they didn't have time to put her ashore. But they ran into all kinds of trouble over the other side and I don't think anyone came back. It was all hush-hush stuff though, so I don't suppose we'll ever really know. Mrs Blackett took it everso hard when she heard the news: well, I think we all did. We knew that John and the Commander were in constant danger, and the rest of us had to face the bombs and everything, but somehow no one expected Nancy to be the one who got killed. Not Nancy – Captain Nancy, Amazon pirate, terror of the seas and all that. She was always getting into trouble because she wouldn't stick to the rules, but she seemed indestructible somehow."

"Sounds like she was a bit of a girl," Sarah said. "I had wondered about that skull and crossbones on the boat house, and the flag they fly on the _Amazon_."

"Nancy and Peggy always wanted to be pirates," Dorothea said. "Nancy most of all. Even when we were doing things like Discovering the North Pole, and Prospecting for Gold, she still couldn't leave that part of her behind. How she coped with Navy discipline I just don't know, but she must have because they made her a Chief Wren and quite a few Officers came to her funeral."

"Maybe they just wanted to be sure no one said too much!" Charles put in. "Maybe they wanted to keep the whole thing a secret still."

"Well I don't see why they needed to be so bothered about it," Dorothea said. "Everyone was killed, so no one could say too much even if they wanted to."

"Actually . . . " Sarah said, a thoughtful look on her face. "Actually – I'm not sure everyone did get killed. I need to check up on it, but I think there might have been one person survived. I've heard a story about someone like that before, and there can't have been many Wrens who got killed like that just before D-Day."

"Oh?" Dorothea asked. "What have you heard?"

"Very little!" Sarah said with a wry smile. "Certainly not enough to go saying anything while Peggy or her Mum are around. Don't you go saying anything to them either, will you? I might have got the wrong person so I need to find out."

"Well if you do find out more please let us know," Dorothea said. "There's a huge mystery still hanging over it all, and I know the family would love to hear anything more that anyone can tell them."

Dorothea looked at the sail as it hung limp from the mast. "Charles, my love," she said, "You couldn't be a dear and dig the oars out could you? We'll be out here all night with this silly little bit of wind."

But as Charles struggled to get the oars out, and Sarah tried to find somewhere where she wasn't in his way, the launch came chugging out from behind the distant Beckfoot promontory. Roger brought Richard with him to the rescue, and gave them a very welcome tow home.

"The trouble with coming for a weekend," Briget moaned at breakfast that Sunday morning, "Is that it comes to an end far too soon."

"Well you'll have to come for longer next time then!" Molly replied.

"Are you sure you'd cope with us all?" Susan asked. "There's so many of us these days, it's an awful imposition on you descending like this."

"Well where else would we all meet?" Molly chuckled. "Your flat? Peggy and John's house on the base? There isn't anywhere else, is there? And anyway – I've enjoyed having you here so much that I want you to come back again. I haven't had a house-full like this for far too many years. So when will you be coming then? September? We often get some beautiful weather up here then."

"I'm sorry Mrs B but I don't think I could get time off then," Susan said. "The holiday rota gets booked up so far ahead that September's already full."

"And Eddie will be starting school then too," Mavis said. "We couldn't take him away just as he started – it wouldn't be fair."

"Well what about Christmas then?" Molly asked. "Surely you'll all be free then won't you?"

"But John and I will be in Gibraltar from October till March," Peggy said. "We'll be based out there right through the winter."

"I don't want it to be another whole year!" Molly said. "What about Easter? How are you fixed then?"

"That's late April next year isn't it?" Mary asked.

"The seventeenth," Richard said, consulting his diary. "That's only about a week before the latest it can ever be. Do you think the weather would be good enough to camp then?"

"It would make Molly's life easier if you youngsters were under canvas," Mary said.

"You don't need to worry about things like that!" Molly said. "We all know it's been a bit of a squash, but it's worked, hasn't it? You all come back here next Easter and we'll make a proper long weekend of it."

So as they set off on their various journeys later that day, full of lovely memories of their time together, that was what they were planning to do. Roger and Sarah had given Rattletrap a good checking over, removed some of the rattles, tuned up the engine, and fixed the worn conection on headlamp that had not worked reliably for ages. John and his father had gone out sailing in the _Amazon_ again, and much to Ted's great pleasure he had found that if John hauled up the sail he could otherwise handle her entirely on his own. Mary and Molly had talked the hind legs off all the donkeys in the district. Eddie and Ruth had fallen in the river together, and scrambled out wet, muddy and laughing before anyone realised what they'd done. And Susan had been so pleased to see everyone happy together that she'd barely stopped smiling all day.

"See you at Easter!" she called as she drove her parents out of the yard.

"See you at Easter!" Mavis and Dick called as Jim drove them off to catch their train.

"See you at Easter!" John called as he left Briget and Mike on the Rio landing-stage and set off to sail _Amazon_ back to Beckfoot.

"See you at Easter!" Sarah shouted over the noise of Roger's motorbike engine as they roared out through the gate.

"Oh I do so want Easter to come," Molly said as she settled into her armchair and Peggy brought her a cup of tea. "The house seems so empty now."

　

　

Christmas came, and Christmas went. Families gathered as best they could: John, Peggy and Ruth many miles from the others in Gibraltar, most of the remaining Walkers at Shotley, most of the Callums in Cambridge, just Jim and Molly at Beckfoot.

Roger and Sarah stayed for a couple of nights at her brother's house, and if Sarah spent a lot of time talking with her relatives Roger expected nothing else. It was only as they prepared to settle down on the living room floor after a very merry and rather beer-filled Boxing day that Sarah asked Roger a question.

"Rog, my love," she murmured.

"Oh sweetheart! I'm awash! I'm just too full tonight. I couldn't!" Roger said.

"No – I didn't mean that, sex-bomb!" Sarah laughed softly, bumping her hips into his, "Well, not this time, anyhow! No – I wanted to ask you about something else this time."

"My ears are all yours!" Roger said, "And, on a night when I've not over-eaten quite so much, so is the rest of me!"

"Be sensible love!" Sarah protested.

"Why?" Roger asked. "I never have been before!"

"Oh give over!" Sarah said. "I love you too Roger Walker, but just for once, just for a few minutes, do you think you could stop playing the goat and listen to me?"

"Speak, my dearest!" Roger said. "Utter wonderful words to me that I might hear."

"Ohh I'll ask you in the morning love!" Sarah sighed. "That beer's doing you no good at all!"

Sarah awoke the next day to find Roger looking at her from a few inches away. "You do look lovely when you're asleep," he murmured. "But what did I stop you saying last night?"

"Give us a kiss and I'll tell you," Sarah said, so several minutes later she did.

"Would you mind if we went home via Lymington?" she asked, then waited for the explosion.

"Go home via Lymington?" Roger asked. "Itchen to Drayton via Lymington? Have you looked at a map lately my love? It's completely the wrong direction!"

"Mmm – I know!" Sarah said. "Just I think I need to go and see Jane's cousin about something, and he'll be around today but then he's away till February."

"You want to just go and see – what is he? Your brother's wife's cousin? In the middle of winter? Because he'll be away till February? He's the one that's away most of the time isn't he? What's so special about this voyage? Why do you need to see him now, for goodness sake?"

"Because I think he knows what happened to Nancy," Sarah said. "That's why I want to see him."

"Oh!" Roger said, all facetiousness suddenly vanished from his voice. "I see. Right. Well then, we'd best be off soon after breakfast. At least the roads should be reasonably clear today."

　

The roads were indeed reasonably clear, but it was still incredibly cold riding a motorbike for sixty miles to do what should have been a twenty mile journey. "This had better be worth it!" Roger muttered as they stopped at a road-side stall to buy a hot drink, and found they had to thaw their gauntleted hands around the warm engine before they could even hold the cups.

"I hope it is," Sarah replied, trying hard to smile but finding that her winter-chilled face would not respond.

　

Jane's cousin Gordon lived with his parents when he was at home, and on board whatever ship he had signed up to when he wasn't. He had served in the Navy during the war and, like so many demobbed seamen, could not get the sea out of his veins.

The rapidly shrinking Royal Navy had no use for him in peace time, but the merchant marine welcomed him: single, willing, experienced – he was just what they wanted. He had served on liners occasionally but many of the passengers found his taciturn manner off-putting, so mainly he served on tramp steamers. He usually served as helmsman but could sling and stow cargo, cook (after a fashion), navigate (although he had no ticket), and even scrub decks at a push. But he'd been signed off at Southampton in late November and been forced to stay at home for over four weeks waiting for a new signing.

When Roger and Sarah pulled up outside his parent's modest terraced house he was sitting in the kitchen, getting in his mother's way, and brooding over the injustice of being forced to spend Christmas ashore rather than on the high seas.

"Umm – hello!" Sarah said when the door opened to their knock, and a woman she did not recognise stood there looking at her. "Umm – is Gordon in? Gordon Hunt?"

"He might be!" the woman said. "Depends. Depends on who wants him, and why."

"Oh goodness!" Sarah said. "I'm . . . I'm his cousin's sister in law. Jane – Jane Taylor as she is now – her husband is my older brother. I'm Sarah Walker – used to be Sarah Taylor – and this is my husband Roger."

"Who's there Ma?" a voice came from inside the house. "What do they want?"

"It's your cousin Jane's husband's sister and her young man," the woman called back over her shoulder. "Says she wants to see you."

"Well best bring her in then Ma!" the voice came again. "Too bloomin' cold to stand on the doorstep, whoever they are."

"Yes, you'd best come in love," the woman said. "He's through in the back – through there."

Sarah and Roger went through to the kitchen and found Gordon sat at the table. "Jane's Derek's sister you say?" he greeted them. "Must be a lot younger than him!"

"There's eleven years between us," Sarah said. "I was a mistake!"

"But a mistake I'm glad they made," Roger added.

"So what brings you here on a day like this then?" Gordon asked. "You look like you've come on a motorbike – you must be frozen stiff."

"Do you want a cup of tea love?" Gordon's mother asked. "Kettle's warm anyway."

"Oh that would be lovely!" Sarah said. "But could I use your toilet first? It's so cold out there I'm bursting."

"It's only the one out in the yard love," Gordon's mother said. "Nothing very special I'm afraid."

"I don't mind if it's a hole behind a bush!" Sarah replied.

When she came back Roger was sitting at the table with Gordon and their conversation had already drifted around to boats. Roger was explaining a little of his job at Thornycroft, and Gordon was saying that he'd been on the MTB26, one of the Thornycroft 73s, as his first ship.

"She was a good little boat she was," Gordon said. "Bit small in some ways, but she did us well."

"Before my time I'm afraid," Roger said. "We were working on the replacement design when I was there, and I was on the engine side of things mainly. But there was one of the old 73s in the yard still, so I can remember them."

"Umm . . . It's about the boats like that – the ones you served on – that we really wanted to ask you," Sarah said, hoping her intrusion would not bring an end to Gordon's reminiscences. "I'm not sure, but I think I remember Jane saying once that you were on one a few weeks before D-Day."

"What of it?" Gordon asked. "I was on the small boats on and off for most of the war. Bloody hard work they were when things got tough. Two inches of mahogany doesn't keep shells out, nor bullets either. Bloody toff sailors in their destroyers and things – they never knew what it was like down at water-level."

Sarah looked at Roger and winced. John had captained destroyers, and until he'd been wounded his father had captained cruisers. They had very different things to say about little men who went scurrying round in little boats, and needed their big guns to protect then when things got too hot.

But Roger kept quiet, and let the slur on his family slide past.

"If we'd had a bit more steel round us I might not have copped that bullet in my leg," Gordon said. "Bloody Jerry had us cornered, and when they put the steering out of action we were sitting ducks for them."

"So Jane told me," Sarah said. "That's really why we wanted to come and find you you see. She wasn't sure about things, but if what she said was right then I think there was someone else on that boat we're sort of related to."

"What? The one the Jerries sank under us?" Gordon asked. "I was the only one got off her. They rammed her you know – wanted to make sure everyone got killed. We never had a chance but the bloody bastards still wanted to make sure of it."

"Was there – was there a girl on board that night?" Roger asked. "A girl who shouldn't have been there?"

"Never carried girls on active duty," Gordon said. "Wrens weren't allowed to be put in danger like that."

"My brother's sister in law was killed on a boat in the war," Roger said. "She was sorting out one of the guns when the boat got sent off on an emergency, and she never came back."

Gordon turned and looked at Roger – the first time he'd looked straight at either of them. "Your brother's sister in law?" he said. "Curly black hair? Stocky sort of build? Got a temper fit to fry bacon with, and a tongue that'd put most sailors to rights?"

"Leading Wren Ruth Blackett," Roger said. "My brother's married to his sister. I knew her from when I was little. She was a bloody good friend."

"She was a bloody plucky girl!" Gordon said. "Put half the crew to shame that night she did – if she's the same girl. She was a Leading Wren alright – an Ordinance Wren. Absolute wizz on Oerlikons and Bofors. But she wasn't called Ruth."

"No – she wasn't if she could help it!" Roger smiled. "I suppose you knew her as Nancy. She always preferred being called that."

"That's the name!" Gordon exclaimed. "Yes! I knew Ruth wasn't right. Yes! Nancy. Nancy Blackett. That's her. Well well – and now your brother's married to her sister? Well bloody good for him! If she's anything like Nancy then he's got a right good'un there. Well well! It's a small world, isn't it? Nancy Blackett's sister's brother in law, and married to our Jane's Derek's sister."

"So then" he continued after a slight pause. "What was it you were wanting to know?"

"What happened to Nancy?" Sarah said. "How she died. What went on that night. The Navy won't say anything, and her Mother would love to find out. All they know is she died on active service, and had a commendation for bravery, but they won't give any details."

"No! There wouldn't be any details, would there! Oh dear me no! The Navy wouldn't want a story like _that_ to get out. On no – not never." Gordon broke off with a quiet chuckle.

"So you want the unofficial story then do you?" he asked. "Mmmm. I might have to think about that. I ain't never told anyone the whole tale you know: that'd get old . . . . . That might get the Captain into trouble if the whole story came out. Mmmm . . . but Nancy Blackett's sister's your relative you say. Well . . . yes . . . I suppose you probably do deserve to hear it then. At least it'd still be in the family that way. D'you want to come and listen too Ma? You might as well find out all the bits I never told you, and then maybe you'll understand why I can't never leave the sea alone."

Gordon's mother took a tin down from the cupboard and opened it, then found a knife and some plates.

"If we've got a tale to listen too we'd best not do it hungry," she said as she cut four slices of cake and passed them around. "Go nicely with the cup of tea, won't it?"

Sarah and Roger sat and listened in ever increasing awe and amazement while Gordon unfolded his tale, of the last Naval voyage he'd undertaken and the tragic ending that had so scarred him and blighted his life. Sarah wished Dorothea had been there to take notes and set it all in flowing prose, but she wasn't, so she listened attentively and jotted a few things down on an old envelope that she found in her pocket.

Roger was taking it all in too, knowing he'd never remember all of it, but desperately trying to keep track of the major points.

When eventually Gordon finished his tale the afternoon was drawing on, and they had a long ride before they could get home again, but there was still much to resolve. Gordon would have to sail the next day: it was too late to pull out on his signing – but he kept Roger and Sarah's address, and would be writing to them as soon as he was home again. With that major matter at least on it's way to a resolution they made their farewells and left.

"Wow!" Sarah muttered as she clambered onto the pillion seat. "Wow! What a story! We've got to let the others hear that!"

Roger set off through the narrow streets of Lymington then headed up through the New Forest to Lyndhurst and Southampton before heading eastwards on rather more familiar roads to Portsmouth and Drayton. It was deeply dark and incredibly cold by the time they got home, and no fires were lit. Roger set to work to get the house a little warmer while Sarah prepared a hurried meal, but then as soon as they'd eaten enough to think clearly Sarah dug out a pad of paper and started writing.

"We've got to get that story down!" she said. "Now! Before we forget any more of it. What was the boat they were on? Where did he say they went to?"

By the time they crawled their once again chilled bodies into bed and started to warm each other up they had page upon page of scribbled notes, and were happy that they had all they could remember of Gordon's tale safely on paper before the memories faded.

　

Three days later Dorothea was surprised to find a bulky envelope in her morning post, and even more surprised to realise it had a Southampton postmark.

"What's Roger and Sarah sending me?" she wondered.

"Open it and find out!" Charles replied. "If it was Mavis I'd say it was a chapter returned with comments, but you've not sent anything like that to Sarah have you? She's not really into your kind of stories."

"Far too practical!" Dorothea said as she opened the envelope. "Far too practical for tales of historical romance and adventure."

A bundle of folded sheets fell out of the packet, with a letter wrapped around them.

"Dear Dot," she read as she opened the letter. "We were wondering if you could help us out with a piece of extended family history we've found. These are our notes of a conversation we had with one of my more distant relatives, and we wondered if you'd be able to work them up into a proper story. You see . . . . "

Dorothea broke off with a squeal. "Oh!" she said. "Oh my! They've got it! Oh my word!"

"Got what, my dearest?" Charles asked.

"Read it!" Dot said excitedly, shoving the letter across to him and picking up the notes. "Read it!"

Charles read down the letter to the point at which Dorothea had broken off, then raised his eyes and looked at her. "You'll do it of course?" he murmured.

"I'd love to do it!" Dot replied, her eyes shining as she scanned down the notes. "A privilege like that? Of course I’ll do it! What a lovely thing to be asked to do. Oh my!"

Dorothea read through Sarah and Roger's notes, picking out the key points, picturing the events, already running phrases through her mind. "What a story!" she sighed as she dropped the last sheet onto the table. "And they've done a brilliant job making these notes for me. This one's going to write itself. Now then . . . If I put Jeremy off a few days, and let Cape's wait before I get back to them . . . . Where's that new ribbon for the typewriter gone to? I'll be needing it before I've finished this one. Oh yes! 'Nancy's End – a woman at war.' As told to Dorothea Callum.

"No! No, that won't do. She writes romances and this one's real history. 'Nancy's last stand – a tale of great bravery.' As told to Dorothea McDonald."


End file.
